


Anomaly

by gostaks



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, dramatization of the act of turning off a water main, gratuitously aesthetic infrastructure, significantly advanced magic is indistinguishable from technology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23540689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gostaks/pseuds/gostaks
Summary: The magic that runs the ship is failing. One tiny part of the ship's mind is tasked with helping a teenager—Shiri—to the safest part of the ship. When elevators fail, Shiri takes to the maintenance shafts, putting her in just the right place to help when the ship needs her most.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10
Collections: Space Swap 2020





	Anomaly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Exile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/gifts).



> This idea has been floating half-formed in my head for... probably years now. I saw your prompts and immediately knew I had to write it out. Hope you enjoy!

_"Shiri!"_ I whispered, “ _Shiri, wake up!”_

Shiri groaned and wriggled in her sleepsack, “Shaddup Ship, sleepin.”

“Shiri, I need you to wake up.”

“ _Sleepin_.”

“Shiri, the ship is in a state of class 2 emergency. Non-essential crew are ordered to report to the core sections within one hour. So would you _please_ get up right now?”

All over the ship, hundreds of tiny copies of my mind were having versions of this conversation. I was aware of them as a susurrus of status reports and messages, whispering _dorm 3 is up and moving_ and _ugh, I don’t think he can even_ hear _me over the sound of his snoring_ and _I think I have this handled, but if anyone has spare processing power could you keep an eye on the door?_ Above it all, the deep voice of the ship’s self, the one we were all copies of, hummed **_keep your charges safe. We will survive this._ **

One hand wriggled out of Shiri’s sleepsack to aim a middle finger at my camera, “Lead with that next time.” She rustled around in the sack for a moment, trying to unstick the zipper, “What’s going on?”

 _Error,_ one of my siblings whispered, _Ward node 15 is malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 96%._

“Unknown,” I told her, “I’m experiencing multiple systems failures. Life support and gravity are nominal so far, but everyone will be safer if they’re near the mechanical backup systems.”

_Warning: Human 72253-622 “Shiri” does not have requisite level 6 engineering classification for further details._

_I know that,_ I shot back at the elder fragment.

Shiri dressed according to the checklist taped on her wall—jumpsuit, grippy socks, non-regulation hat, non-regulation weighted vest. When she finished, she stopped in the middle of the room, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I gave her a moment to switch tracks, then prompted, “Shiri, what do you do now?”

She bounced for a few more seconds, “I’m getting my bug-out kit so I can evacuate. And the first step of that is… gathering my comfort items. Right, I can do this.” She started moving again, futzing around the room and muttering to herself as she picked up her collection of tools and sparkling charms.

_Warning: Partial life support failure on deck 21. Advise all crew to utilize personal charms or mechanical life support when possible._

_Error: Ward nodes 2, 7, 12, 15, and 16 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 74%._

Itchy pressure was building up in the parts of the ship I was directly aware of. The conversations of my thousands of otherselves reflected the same—odd pressure, buzzing tension. 

Shiri’s bug-out kit was bigger and heavier than average. By the time she’d settled the last bottle of ink in her toolkit and clipped its buckles to her standard pack, the rest of the dorm had moved out in pairs and clumps. “You’re going to the bridge,” I warned her as she stood in front of the door, “which is going to be pretty crowded. You’ll have to walk through to get to the quiet room in the observation deck.”

“I can do that.” She squared her shoulders, chewing idly on her right index finger, and strode into the corridor.

_Warning: Partial life support failure on decks 21, 22, and 24. Advise all crew to utilize personal charms or mechanical life support when possible._

“Wait! I think I forgot something!” Shiri said as soon as the door hissed shut behind her.

“I watched you pack, Shiri. You didn’t forget anything. I know you do this when you’re anxious, but this is an emergency.”

“I need to—”

“You need to get to the core sections, where it’s safe,” I said as gently as I could manage. There wasn’t any time. The itching was getting worse, nagging at me, and my otherselves whispered of error after error.

Shiri turned around and walked back to her closed door. She pressed both palms against the smooth metal, resting her forehead between them. “It’s going to be okay. I didn’t forget anything. Ship told me so. It’s going to be okay.” She took three long, deep breaths, then started moving again. I let out a quiet hum of relief, and it was echoed back to me by my otherselves.

_Warning: Total life support failure on deck 21. All personnel on deck 21, evacuate immediately._

_Error: Ward nodes 2-7, 12, 13, 15, and 16 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 42%._

The elevator was three sections away from the dorms, about a five minute walk. It took Shiri more than ten, since she preferred to hop around certain features on the deck’s carpet and detour around the port side of the cafeteria. Deck 16 was still safe, but the itch pulled at me. _Faster,_ I wanted to yell at her. I didn’t. 

_My kids are safe,_ whispered one of my otherselves. _Is everyone accounted for?_

 _Four more are coming,_ another said.

_Please hurry!_

The itch around me built to a crescendo, buzzing too sharp and near to bear, until with a sharp _crack!_ a strip of arcane lighting shattered directly in front of Shiri. She ducked to the side, clapping her hands over her ears. A few shaky breaths later, she looked up, “What the hell was that, Ship?”

“The charms in the light just failed. I… don’t know why. It would be a good idea to walk in the center of the hall, when possible.”

Shiri stayed where she was, curled up into a little ball.

“Shiri, I need you to get moving.” I watched her, “Remember how we practiced? Deep breaths.”

She sucked air in and out, gasps at first, then settling into a better rhythm. She pushed herself up against the wall. Then, one step at a time, she began walking down the corridor again, singing softly under her breath. 

_Help!_ yelled one of my otherselves.

 _What happened?_ we asked.

_My elevator just failed. I’m at the bottom of a shaft, and I can’t move. No one’s in me, thank the stars._

I calculated. It was against protocol to allow a minor in maintenance shafts, but if one elevator could fail then they all could. “Shiri, the elevators aren’t safe. I need you to turn around. If you backtrack, you can reach maintenance shaft 7. It’s a long climb, but it will take you close to the bridge.”

Shiri kept walking forward towards the elevators. I hummed with tension—building, building—until she reached them. She tapped the frame and turned, “Okay, where next?”

“Take a left here.” I told Shiri when she got to the correct junction. She looked to her right. “Other left, and then two meters down.”

_Warning: Total life support failure on decks 21-24. All personnel on affected decks should evacuate immediately._

Shiri paused at the entry to the maintenance shaft, looking up at one of my cameras, “Walk me through this.”

“You’re going to climb seven levels to reach the bridge. Each level will have a ladder, and there will be tubes like these and an exit on every deck. You can stop and rest on any deck, if you need to. I’ll be able to see and hear you the whole time, and talk to you if you need help.”

“I’ve always wanted to go in one of these,” Shiri said, but her hands twitched, nervous. Still, she climbed into the tube and started up the ladder, humming softly to herself.

_Error: Ward nodes 2-7, 9, 12-14, and 16-18 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 11%._

_Shit! Deck 14 is flooding!_

_What do you mean?_ a chorus of otherselves asked the one who could speak. We threw bits of ourselves at the sensors on deck 14. They came back one by one, buzzing with the itch that pervaded the ship and carrying scenes of an exploded sigil, pipes and wires severed and leaking.

_Who can help? All of my engineers are on the hull!_

_Mine too!_

_We’ll have to direct someone from the core sections to help. Can we wait that long?_

_I’m not sure._

I had been created to guide Shiri to the core sections. That was my purpose in existing. Each otherself, as its charges had arrived in the core, had been absorbed back into the ship’s self. It was counter to everything I was, but protecting the ship was part of my mandate, too. I gathered my courage and offered, almost too low for my otherselves to hear, _Shiri’s almost on deck 14. She could help._

It took a moment for my thought to catch on in the whispers, but otherselves picked it up and echoed it louder until all had heard. _She’s too young,_ whispered my opponents, _she’s not trained._

_Partially trained. She’s been apprenticing with the engineers, and it’s not a difficult task._

Slowly, the whispers came to consensus. 

“Shiri, I have a task for you.”

Shiri paused, halfway up a ladder, “What do you need?”

“I need someone to turn the water shutoff lever for deck 14. It’s only a few minutes walk from where you are, and should be safe.” I paused to let her think, and when she said nothing, “You don’t have to do it.”

“You want me to do real maintenance? During a shipwide emergency? Hell yeah I’ll do it.” Shiri bounced up and down on her toes, nearly losing her balance on the ladder. 

“Start by climbing up to the next level. The lever is in the maintenance tube, so when you reach the floor you’ll have to turn right and walk a little way.”

Shiri’s demeanor and body language changed entirely. I hadn’t anticipated quite how excited she’d be to help, and it gave me a little surge of pride. She scrambled the rest of the way up the ladder, then stood as much as she could in the tunnel. She held her hands out in front of her, making an L shape with her fingers, then pointed right, “This way?”

“Yep.”

The tube’s roof brushed against Shiri’s hat as she walked, but she barely had to stoop. Her eyes darted over the knots of spellwork, pipes, and wires that wrapped around the tube and over her head, but she didn’t pause to examine them. 

Without warning, She vanished. She existed one moment, and in the next I couldn’t see her.

 _Help!_ I yelled to my otherselves, and “Shiri!” out loud. The buzzing was unbearable.

The otherselves said nothing. I could hear them, but no one responded to me, or boosted my queries.

“What’s wrong, ship?” Shiri’s disembodied voice echoed down the tube.

“I can’t see you! Where are you?” _Can you hear me? Please please please hear me._

“I’m in the maintenance tunnels. Maybe there’s something wrong with your cameras? Here, I’ll just back up a few steps.” She popped back into the world, none the worse for wear.

 _“_ Oh thank the stars.” I whispered.

“You’re okay now?” she asked, looking toward the spot of horrible, horrible nothing. 

“I can see you now—wait!” The buzzing was worse, itching at me. _Help! Help!_

Shiri vanished again, “Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you, Shiri, but I can’t see you. Come back!” I needed her to come back. 

Shiri stepped back into view again, “Ship, I need an honest answer. Is it safe to go this way? Are you trying to stop me because I’m going to get hurt, or because you’re scared?”

I was cut off. The working of the ship required all of us, thinking together. The ship’s self was still there, still humming, but if my otherselves couldn’t coordinate… we were the pieces that ran the magic through the walls. We were the forces in the engine. It would be… I didn’t know. The buzzing was unbearable.

“Ship,” Shiri said, “Breathe.”

I couldn’t breathe, but that wasn’t the point. I took a moment to calm myself, focusing on Shiri’s calm, repetitive bouncing. “It’s safe, as far as I can tell.”

“There are these glowing markers on the wall with numbers. If I tell you which one I’m near, will you be able to figure out where that is?”

“The section markers? Yes, I can use those to figure out where you are.” The tubes should be safe, and Shiri could tell me where she was. It wouldn’t be hard for her to turn the shutoff lever, even if I couldn’t see her, and then she could come right back. I pulled up a model of the tubes in my mind, filling Shiri in as a glowing dot, “Okay, I’m ready. Keep walking.”

“Good. I’m passing marker one four dash seven four now. Everything looks normal in here. Seven three…”

“You’re looking for marker 14-64,” I told her. “Just keep moving until you get there.”

“Okay, seven two,” she said. I could hear her perfectly, from the brushing of her socks on the floor to the soft clatter of charms. She had probably stuck her hand in her pocket to rattle her collection, like she often did when she was focused. The sound of her stimming was at least as much of a comfort as her regular and steady breath. 

_Error: All ward nodes malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 0%._

_Warning: Hull is vulnerable to impact. Evacuate all non-essential personnel to central locations._

“One four dash six four. This is it?”

“Yes. Do you see a panel on your right side labeled ‘water main’?” 

I couldn’t see Shiri or the tube, but I could almost reconstruct the scene, down to the pause as Shiri looked in the wrong direction before, “Found it!”

“You can open it by—” I heard the sound of a panel being manually opened, “Like that. Do you see the big red lever? Rotate it all the way counterclockwise.”

“Got it, I think.”

The leak slowed, then stopped entirely, “Yes, you got it. Nice work. Now _please_ head back to where I can see you.” _Can anyone hear me?_

No response from the otherselves, but the chatter carried the words back to me, _Deck 14 is no longer flooding. Good work, Shiri!_

Shiri’s footsteps pattered back up the tube. A few minutes later, she blinked back into my sight. The buzzing faded as she did, just a bit. _Can anyone hear me?_

 _Yes, we can hear you,_ said the chorus of otherselves.

I sent them the data of the moments I’d been alone. They spread it, one to the next, whispers growing more and more anxious. 

_We need to prevent further damage,_ one of the elder otherselves said. _There are engineers to disconnect the arcane generators, but the water tanks are in the center of the ship. Shiri is closest._

 _She won’t be safe!_ a dozen of my otherselves argued.

 _No one is safe,_ I said. _You saw what I experienced. The ship is falling apart. I don’t know if even the mechanical backups are safe._

 _If Shiri will go, she should go,_ the elder said, and the argument ceased to exist.

“Shiri, I need you to listen to me,” I said as she walked down the tunnel, “The ship’s enchantments are failing catastrophically. Sometimes they just fade out of existence, like the cameras back there, but sometimes the backlash is explosive. People have been injured, even killed. Our ward system is down entirely, and life support is failing on the lower decks.”

“Well, _fuck.”_

“The bridge and nearby parts of deck 9 have completely mechanical life support, all electricity and physical systems that aren’t linked into the spell network. I know mechanical systems seem tenuous and unreliable most of the time, but they’re less likely to fail right now.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You need to be informed. If you’re going to do what I ask of you, you need to know the risks.”

“I heard you, Ship. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to get to the central water tank and cut off water for the whole ship. The engineers are cutting off arcane power, too. You’ll need to get back to the ladder and up two floors. And Shiri? I’m not going to rush you, but the faster this gets done, the better.”’

Tension and excitement competed in Shiri’s body language as she hustled down the tunnel. Her hands trailed along the walls, darting off to finger a charm in her pocket or adjust her hat.

Shiri tripped as she exited the tunnels, landing in a corridor with a splat. More than six inches of water lay on the floor, from a leak I hadn’t heard so much as a whisper about. More communications failures. “Which way?” She asked, wiping her hands on her jumpsuit. She grimaced at her wet knees. 

“Left, three doors down.” I willed the door to open, letting go when it was just wide enough for Shiri to slip inside. It carried more of that odd buzzing, and I didn’t want to be any closer to it than I had to be.

Shiri stepped through the door and stopped, jaw dropped. My central water storage was subdivided to prevent catastrophic breaches, of course, but all of the subdivisions were clear plex, to make it easier to spot any contaminants in the water. The resultant structure looked very much like a sphere of water hanging unsupported in the center of the biggest chamber on the ship. My otherselves had watched many young engineers stare at the sight for hours, watching as water was pumped from one section to another. No time for that, now.

“It’s _beautiful,”_ Shiri whispered.

I imagined what would happen if the plex broke, sending all that water crashing down on her. “Shiri, what are you doing?” I prompted.

“I have to turn off the water,” she responded promptly. “Where do I do that?”

“There are six shutoff valves, all on the central column. You’ll need to turn each of them off.” There were enchantments built into the column—what if they failed?

“One for every four decks?” she asked as she walked forward, eyes still on the water tank.

“Exactly.”

 _Water should be shut off in five minutes,_ I told my otherselves. I got pingbacks of acknowledgement and gratitude. The buzzing itch almost seemed to ease, for a moment.

She reached the center and popped open the first panel, reaching for the handle. It was bigger than the one she would have turned on deck 14, and it took a bit of work for her to grasp. She grunted softly as she turned, “Why isn’t there one big shutoff for the whole ship?”

“Good eye. There is one, but it’s arcane. These shutoffs are entirely mechanical.” I watched as she worked her way around the circle, trying to prepare myself for the worst. One of the many charms on this room would fail, and explode, and she would drown. Or, worse, she’d be injured and no one would be able to help and... 

Shiri turned the last lever, “Done! Where next?”

The bridge, I almost told her, and then stopped. 

_Error: Ward nodes 2-14, and 16-18 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 7%._

_Ward node 15 is up!_ One of my otherselves reported, _My engineer fixed it!_

The buzzing _was_ less. It was still there, still grating at me, but not as bad as it had been. I sent my gratitude. The ship’s self spun out new otherselves for the first time in hours, ones dedicated to thinking about what, exactly, had happened. I dedicated a part of myself to listening. With another part, I asked, _is there anything else for Shiri to do?_

After a long moment, an elder otherself spoke up, _Nothing safe but..._

“Shiri, how comfortable do you feel doing maintenance on the ward network?”

She gave it a moment of serious thought, “I’ve been doing smaller spell circles for a few years now. It’s not exactly the same mechanically, but the principles apply. But,” she bit her finger, then removed it so she could talk, “you said that sigils are exploding and hurting people.”

“They are,” and oh, I hated to ask this of her, “but the faster we get the ward networks up, the safer the ship as a whole will be. I’ll be with you every step of the way, but I won’t ask you to do this if you’re not sure you can do it safely, or if you don’t want to go.” Please say no. Please go to where it’s safe.

“Everyone else who could do it is dead, aren’t they.”

It wasn’t really a question, but I answered anyway, “Dead or too injured to help, or a few are trapped by broken or depressurized sections of my corridors.” They weren’t my assignment. I cared, but only because my otherselves cared, and only from a very great distance. 

“What happens if I don’t?” Shiri bounced on the balls of her feet, pensive.

“Nothing, hopefully. Worst case? The longer the ward network is down, the higher the probability we get hit by some piece of space junk that penetrates the hull.”

She set her heels firmly on the ground, “Let’s go.” The drama of the situation was rather diminished by the fact that she was wearing grippy socks and wading through ankle-deep water.

I’d watched Shiri pack her bug-out kit less than an hour ago, so I knew she had most of the tools she would need. She wouldn’t have the precision to fine-tune the ward network when it was up, but that could be done later. 

_Error: Ward nodes 2-5, 7-13, 16, 18 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 22%._

It took Shiri fourteen minutes to reach ward node 7, by which point three more nodes were up. The itch still pulled at me, though. It was weaker, but it was still there, and stronger from the strip of lighting up ahead, and “Shiri, get down!”

Shiri darted to the side as a light panel failed next to her, for the second time that day. She flinched, and it broke her stride, but continued walking. 

Shiri pulled out her twirling charm and wrapped its string around and around her fingers while she paced around the ward circle. In structure, it wasn’t too much different from a schoolchild’s charm, just bigger and more complex. The problem was obvious—one of the eight subsigils had blown, erasing a section of the larger circle and breaking the mana flow. 

“Ship, was the sigil that failed special in any way?” she asked, still twirling the charm.

“No, and it receives neither the smallest nor largest mana flow.”

_Error: Ward nodes 2, 3, 7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 16, and 18 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 52%._

Shiri knelt, lining her eye up with the surface of the node, “Is this surface entirely flat?”

“Yes, or it should be. I have functional sensors in this room, close your eyes and I can check.” Shiri squeezed her eyes shut as I played lasers over the node’s surface, “It’s _not._ Deflected up by nearly a millimeter along the 2-6 axis.”

_Is anyone else seeing warping or deflection in their sigils?_

_Yes,_ came a chorus of answers.

“I can compensate, I think, but someone’s going to have to re-do all of my work soon or risk another failure.” She stared for another moment, “Actually, check again?” 

I ran the test again, “Shiri, the deflection is less, by maybe a whole nanometer. What could possibly… oh.”

“Something warping space,” Shiri said. She stood and started pacing again, one hand twirling her hair, “It would bend sigils out of spec, causing inexplicable and catastrophic failures! And then when it bent back, you’d never know.”

The otherselves examining the situation had come to the same conclusion. 

Shiri slung her kit off her shoulder, “Well, I know how to fix it now. Or, uh, I’m going to need your help to draw the right figures, and I definitely don’t have the trick of investing my own sigils yet, but I know how to get started.”

_Error: Ward nodes 2, 7, 8, 11, 13, 16, and 18 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 67%._

_Error: Ward nodes 7, 8, 13, 16, and 18 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 81%._

_Error: Ward nodes 7, 8, 13, 16, and 18 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 81%._

_Error: Ward nodes 7, 13, and 18 malfunctioning. Arcane shield strength 93%._

Shiri traced out the last lines and stepped back. “Check my work again?”

“I've checked it, Shiri. It’s good work.” The buzzing was almost gone now. It must have been, what, the effect of the spatial warping on the spell networks that made up my mind? Was that even possible?

“I had to do a bit of fudging to squeeze in the last letter, is it balanced correctly?”

“Shiri, calm,” I reminded her, “Why do humans draw arcane sigils rather than ships?” 

“Small irregularities prevent eddies that could cause failure or undue stress,” she recited, “I know. It’s good to go?”

“Yes. You did excellent work, Shiri. Connecting to the ward network in three, two, one,” I said, and exerted my mind. Blue light spread across the platform, traveling through the circles and seeming to lift them off the surface.

 _All ward nodes functioning within acceptable parameters. Arcane shield strength 100%,_ I reported.

“It worked?” she asked.

“It worked!”

“It worked it worked it worked!” Shiri said. She set her tools down gently, moved a step away from the sigil, and began to jump up and down, waving her hands in joy, “It worked!”

_Life support restored to all decks. Precautions should be taken by all crewmembers entering compromised areas._

Two engineers made it up to deck 12 about an hour later. They were exhausted, covered in grime and soot, fingers stained a deep blue by the enchanting inks that were the tools of their trade. Still, both smiled at Shiri, who still sat in the node room, knees curled to her chest. She rocked, not looking up at them.

“You did good work,” one said. Once he’d located Shiri in the room, he’d fixed his eyes on the node. “Can you walk us through what you did here?”

Shiri squeezed her eyes shut, thinking.

The other spent another moment looking at Shiri, “If you need the space, we can go. Ship tells me that this will be stable for at least a few days. You should get some food, though. And sleep.”

"No, just give me a minute to make it into words," Shiri told them. She was silent for long enough that the second engineer began to fidget then, abruptly, she stood. “Initially, Ship and I noticed that the node surface had deflected significantly from a true plane. It was necessary to correct this in my repairs. We began by modeling the sigil as a hyperbolic plane…”

My charge was safe, my work done. I faded back into the ship’s mind, contributing my pride and respect for her to a greater whole.


End file.
